


Going Forward (In Reverse): Fate is Fate

by PhoenixDragon



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: AU, Heavy Angst, Horror, Language, M/M, Sci-Fi, Violence, dark!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-24
Updated: 2010-11-24
Packaged: 2017-10-13 08:55:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/135461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixDragon/pseuds/PhoenixDragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>It wasn't just the Dreams, or even the images they threw at him, the truths they revealed. It was the way he had to hide them, to pretend everything was okay when it wasn't.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Going Forward (In Reverse): Fate is Fate

  
[   
](http://pics.livejournal.com/a_phoenixdragon/pic/0014hx0q/)   


He dreaded going to sleep at night.

It wasn't just the Dreams, or even the images they threw at him, the truths they revealed. It was the way he had to hide them, to pretend everything was okay when it wasn't.

It was the strange looks Jeff gave him when they were alone, it was the hurt throb of thought/communication from Jared that made them all the more unpleasant. Unlike most regular dreams, they had that odd shiver of Sight in them that normally he would be more than happy to share. But the ominous quality to them went beyond nightmarish and it wasn't getting any better; if anything, it was getting worse.

He kept trying to tell himself it was nothing. It was stress, a fluke - they weren't really Visions at all. But every time he went to open his mouth, to Jeff, to Jay, he got a chill down his spine that told him maybe it would be best if he didn't speak at all. Then he would spend the whole day trying to forget them, only to have to go through it all over again when night fell.

It was getting tiring, he was starting to slip - and fear made him snappish and withdrawn. It wasn't so much that his Mentor and Tuner would freak out (though Jared freaking out would kind of be a given) it was the Council finding out. He had a nasty suspicion that they might not like the turn of his Seeing, that they might find him defective somehow.

It was irrational, he knew; you had to seriously step on the other side of that line to be brought before them for Judgement. But as days fell into weeks leaning from one month into two, it was a fear that grew like a shadow before the sun. And to make matters worse, the longer he stayed mute, the more he'd have to explain if he did open his fat mouth.

The only comfort he had to hold onto (besides his little family) was the solid fact that soon, it would all be over. If his Dreams spoke True, then within a very short amount of time - a manner of days, perhaps - the Council, Jeff, Jared and what they would say if they knew would no longer matter. But there was no need to worry them about it, there was no need to get them upset.

It could all be a weird fluke, a case of too much stress, of his abilities getting beyond him - it was known to happen. It was all for the best, he had to believe that. He had kept the secret so far, what was a few more days? It wasn't like he could control the future.

And at the end of each day, that was what brought him the comfort he sought.

Fate was Fate.

It was out of his hands.

  


  
**~0~0~0~**   


  


  
_It was cold, sleet fell from the sleepy, cloud-swept sky as nine birds -_

Ravens __

drifted soundlessly above; the quiet pressing in on him like a weight.

The ground was patchy and sparse below his boots, the sky mirrored in pools of stagnant, calm water. The puddles were scattered in a haphazard manner, their placements oddly parallel to the formation of clouds above; almost as if the ground and the sky were one and the same.

Keep your head down __

He moved without walking, his body sweeping effortlessly across the uneven ground. The sensation jarred him, even as he forced himself to relax into it. He had only made one attempt

weeks ago, months ago, years ago __

to move on his own, to put one foot in front of the other, stop the free-falling illusion of floating on air to move under his own power - but that had been a mistake. The motion had halted his progress and left him feeling sticky and slow, like being bound in a giant spider's web. The creepy feel of it had followed him for days in

the other world __

the waking world and he had never tried to do that again. He knew what was coming

the Tree __

and as horrifying as that was, what lay beyond it was worse. Fighting the Dream (if that's what it was) was even worse than that _could ever be; and considering how it ended..._

Now was not the time to think of such things.

He marveled at the detailed cacaphony of the dreamscape, how each crack of ground differed from the parcel next to it and yet how it all blended together into something calm, monotonous even - though chilling. The Dream reflected a lack of caring towards his psyche; it painted an atmosphere that drew the eye, all the while repulsing it. It looked sad, it looked lonely - and yet he had never felt more exposed.

He took a deep breath, realising he was slowing and forced himself to look up, to face the Tree. Looking away never solved anything, looking away never made the shattered wrongness of such a mundane fixture easier to accept.

If these were the Badlands - the Tree was the source.

Upon first glance, it looked like a tree _. Its trunk flowed from the marshy, parched clump of ground in a leaning twisting fashion, wintery arms spread wide to accept the bitter tears of sleet from the cold and unforgiving sky. It looked like a tree - nothing more, nothing less; until you actually Saw it. Not just glanced at it (as you would any normal tree, dismissing its presence once registered) not just gazed at it as though to ponder its existence - when you_ Saw _it._

You could see the wrong that it represented, the darkness it held within, packed down deep, deep until it vomited its taint across the landscape inside his mind. The oil-slicked surface that should have been bark oozed and tumbled over itself, the violent shifting of the impossibly thin surface hinting at something more disgusting, more disturbing beneath.

He was afraid of touching it, afraid of the whispering chuckle of black that glinted under the thin skin of 'ordinary', the shiny veneer of normal that It barely bothered to maintain. He knew, deep down in his very soul, that to anyone else, it would just be a tree - not a Tree _\- but a tree. And somehow, that idea scared him more than the vile Thing itself._

It made him wonder (it made him worry) about the various things, the multitude of people around him that he saw (Saw) - and what lay beneath their surfaces.

If a nausea-inducing scream of madness could masquerade as a tree, make itself invisible with the normalcy that the world expected - what else _could do it. What could he be missing as he walked through life, unaware of the the sidewalk, the grass, the thousand other things that made up daily life. What could he be missing - and in how much danger did that put his reality, his little family?_

These thoughts terrified him as they did every night - and yet, somehow, they made it easier to face the Tree, to accept and shore up against the tilt of wrongness that hurt his eyes and made his head ache. It was like a psychic rip across the universe, like an endless scream into the vaccuum of space. It was Nothing, yet it was worse than nothing, because it had invaded something, taken root and made itself at home.

In the end, that was the very worst thing. It was allowed to be here, to grow, to make itself part of the living - and by that alone, it was allowed to poison its setting, to feed off of the life that it encroached on.

He could feel the slow progress he was making towards the crouching twist of the Tree's trunk shudder to a halt, the sensation (as it was every night) like being unstuck to a gluey surface, only to be trapped in a pit of molasses. He was afraid to look up, to see the Nothing that clawed its way up from the ground below catching upon the blueblueblue of sky, trapping it in a hooked spread of poison to dash Its sickness across the expanse above. He felt like he was being crushed between the weight of cool calmness above him into the gravity of the same below, with only the curve of the Tree to keep the world upright and as it should be.

And he shouldn't feel like that - he should never feel

safe, secure, surrounded __

comforted by such a monstrosity. But it didn't stop the feeling from spreading through him - that somehow, even under the canopy of such a disgusting blight as the Tree, he was being watched over, even loved.

He tilted his head to the sky, briefly reflecting that his body was mirroring the Tree much the same as the vast sky above mirrored the gnarled ground below; instinctivley searching for the source of comfort amongst the voided press of landscape, the same nine birds

Ravens __

circling stillness far, far above. He was dimly aware of them as his eyes scanned the heavens, the lack of their raucous voices prickling along his senses like flame-licked needles, raising the fine hairs on his arms and the back of his neck.

His eyes watered from the cold air, only registering the sleet once more he craned his head back, droplets of icy rain spattering across his cheeks and forehead, the taste of them as bitter as actual tears. He could feel the despair seeping in, trying to make itself back at home within his soul - but it was defeated by that

watched, warmed, loved __

brush of remembrance.

This is where he found Him.

This was what he had endured the rest of this Dream for - to see Him, to speak to Him; to explain himself. About what, he was unsure - all he knew was that it was vastly important. He needed Him to know...to know something _\- but first, the Dreamer had to See Him. If he could See Him, it would make all of this better, it would make this Dream, the land surrounding him, the sky above, the Tree beside him melt away as if they never existed. It was an irrational thought, one that he harbored each time (though it never came true) and each time he tried to make Him see him, to hear him._

And then He was There.

He faded into being above, a part of the Dream and yet not, like an old holo that was losing its clarity. He didn't flicker and fuzz like a holo that was dying, though - and for that the Dreamer was truly grateful.

He faded in and became part of the stretch of sky, a solid presence even as He seemed to melt into the edges of the Dream, the comfort of His presence both warming and terrifying, as His visage was too closed to the damnable Tree. Even the Tree, though, seemed to sense His fierceness, His image an absolute in the sudden shakiness of the Dreamscape and It tilted further away as if in awed fear.

The Dreamer basked in his Mentor's presence, soaking up courage as he tried to find his voice, knowing that if he started speaking then He would hear. He cracked his jaw open, suprised (as always) by the layer of almost ice that had settled over his face from the continual deluge from above, only to find that his voice had frozen from the inside out.

His tongue refused his commands, his insides chilling as the evil miasma of the Tree combined with the weeping assault of sleet seeped into his bones, freezing him into place and rendering him mute - unable to even push out with his mind to call for his Mentor's attention. The Dreamer struggled to move, to blink, to cry out. The serenity of his surroundings took on a more sinister feel as he fought, knowing (as he always did) that fighting was a bad idea, fighting was worse than giving in ever could be.

But he was running out of time.

Dream be damned, Tree be damned - he had no more precious minutes to lose, no more time to waste. It was all going to end soon and he had to tell Him...he had to say he was sorry, to let Him know that -

Thunder crackled from overhead and the eyes of his Mentor turned from the tips of the Trees branches (so close to seeing, but never close enough) to drift to the East.

The Dreamer didn't know what lay over there, he never knew -

he never would __

but he also knew that whatever lay in that direction was not important. It couldn't be. He had to get Him to See him, to know that what was going to happen next was never something he planned. He knew it would come to pass, he knew that in his heart from the moment he had first Seen it, as impossible as that was. But he didn't want his Mentor to think it was deliberate. The Dreamer would never hurt them that way, he would never create a hole in their lives that way.

But he couldn't change Fate either.

All he could do was tell Him. He couldn't tell Him

while awake __

while outside of the Dream, the Dreamer's lips just as frozen in the reality of the waking world as they are here (now) - but it was more important for his Mentor to know while here, in this Dream. It would make it easier to accept (as the Dreamer had); it would make it easier to move on.

But he was slowly losing precious seconds, his Mentor's countenance as serene and open as the sky He was melded into.

If only he could move, shout before the sky flipped in on itself and -

//He was falling, hurtling towards the sky, the ground slipping away from the anchors of his feet. The last thing he saw was his Mentor's open, almost sleepy visage as he contemplated the Forever that was beyond the Dreamer's sight. His time was up, he wouldn't see Him like that again and that made him sad, even as he found himself slammed into the next scene of the Dream.

This was worse than the Tree, worse than trying to scream against the silence of the oppressive, barren landscape in the previous section of the Dream - this was the 'real' portion, the one he couldn't fix, the one he couldn't stop.

And now he would never be able to explain as -//

  
 _He was pressed, shaken back into the solid presence of his own skin. It was the opposite of frozen, of cold as the dash of brilliant sun above eased into the cracks in his soul, filling them with warmth and light._

No, he was no longer frozen, no longer immobilized - but he wasn't moving under his own machinations either. He was here, it was coming -

the cold and dark would win __

but he was helpless against the pull as the familiar feel of Sight slid over the precarious stretch and flex of his own body and mind. All he had to do was open himself up to it -

fall in, fall down __

let the Dream take over from here. The ending was bad, it always was; but not bad so much for himself _, if he thought about it. No, it was bad for Them, for his family. And it was worse because he couldn't speak of it, even as he moved towards the man he called Father, the man he had called Friend and Teacher for the last twenty three years._

He felt his arm flex against the static pull of himself as he raised his wristor to his mouth, commanding the front door of the residence to lock behind him as Jeffery motioned impatiently from the passenger side of his Jip. His neck creaked as he blinked up into the morning sunlight, shaking his head as if to clear it of the Dream of Now before jogging down the flagstone path to his auton, its bulky, boxy shape a soothing comfort, even knowing that it was the vehicle towards disaster.

"You don't need me to let you in, Jeff," he felt/heard himself say. "You know that."

"Yeah, I know - I just hate being in this damned deathtrap without your reassuring presence." Was the dry reply, same as it was every time they took his Jip - which they did a lot, snarky comment or no. Seemed most of the time, Jeff would rather take the Jip than his own auton.

His Mentor blinked slowly over the top of the auton's roof, eyes suddenly dark and serious - and the Dreamer knows it is Now. This is the time he should tell him, this _is the time he should speak - or better yet, turn around and go back into the dim safety of the house._

"Are you...are you sure there isn't something you need to tell me, Little-Tall?"

Jeffery's voice is soothing and low - and the Dreamer knows his mental taps will be serene points of purplecreampurple _woven with small rushing hums that always calmed and drew him out as a child. The nickname itself echoes along the dusty, half-remembered snatches of his childhood and it makes him want to weep even as it relaxes him. The Dreamer knows his own mind will be shut to his Mentor, sending out soothing waves of its own, even as his barriers will be tight._

He will fight with everything to not answer that call, to not fall into the honeyed trap of Jeff's concern - even as he knows this is ultimately the right time.

Just as it was yesterday and the day before.

He wants to tell him - that's the trick. He wants to spill this secret that boils in his chest like acid, he wants to unlock his voice and let the darkness roll out, even if it would melt that kind understanding from Jeffery's eyes, even if it would darken them against him.

He knows he should _\- he can even feel himself start to reply, the rush of air against his vocal cords building into words that will flow off of his tongue and remove that ache from his soul. But the words he wants to speak do not come. They never do. He can almost see the subtle shift of disappointment in Jeffery's eyes_

he knows you're hiding something __

and he finds he is willing to live with that - even if it is only a little while longer.

"No, Sensei," Another echo from the dimly remembered past - and much easier to speak

almost automatic __

than the words he locks down behind his throat. He can feel the truth burning him from the inside, but he needs to still the urge now. That time is past, if it was ever really there to begin with.

It was time to go.

"Should there be?"

"No," and Jeffery was opening the passenger door, one foot already inside, his eyes clear but unreadable as he patted the roof of the Jip in a familiar rat-a-tat-thump _. "No, I guess not. We'll be late - it's time to go."_

He can feel himself nod, feel the sleepy half-there quality of his own (later) disappointment

at not getting caught __

and relief, his hand already reaching for the Jip's release catch and -

  
//He flips again. He doesn't know why and that's what bothers him most of all, keeps him pouring over it obsessively during those moments he is

 _lost_

alone with his thoughts, away from Jeffery's thoughtful, almost penetrating gaze and Jared's exuberant warmth. Why should that small section of time be cut away, why was it considered so unimportant? Or was it the key?

But he didn't have time for that, any of it before he was falling again, a sharp tingling starting in his fingers and toes (the signal that he was deep in a True Vision) as he was slammed back into -//

  
 _The suffocating press of his own skin, the back of his hand warm and tight from the persistant rays of morning sun that beat against it, traffic sparse along the back roads they are traveling. He sees out of the corner of his eye that Jeffery is speaking, but the sound is blocked by a persistent buzz in his ear. Though oddly enough, he can still hear the hum of the ignitor, the crunch of gravel under his ancient wheels as they rattle along just a few klicks under the limit. He doesn't dare turn his head, to try to catch his words visually -_

never take your eyes from the road __

as he has known better since he was first give the ignitor-chips for his Jip.

Along with the lack of hearing (Jeffery's voice tinny and thin with static) there is also a Void where his thoughts should be. Thoughts operate differently in dreams (and it seems, even more so in Dreams) but they are there - a constant source of information to be heeded or blocked. But from his Mentor, there is Nothing - not even a mental buzzing to accompany the noise replacing his voice.

The time is getting closer, he knows he should be prepared - maybe find a way to calm Jeffery before It Happens, but it seems the transmitting ability is just as blocked as his speaking ability.

Then it is over -

Time is up.

He never knows whether he flips into it (or it flips into him) but within the next breath of time

as soon as he passes the advertisement for ' _ **Kane's Muszik Showcasun**_!' __

they will both be flipped - and there will be no stopping it, no turning back of the clock. There will just be no more.

Except...

Except this moment.

His eyes blink twice (without permission) and then seem to catch on the sign ( **All Acts Unique and Pleasing to the Ears!** _) and then...and then he slowly exhales and -_

The world spins breathlessly, his air splintered apart, shards of it catching on the blood exiting his lungs as his chest is crushed against the guiding console of the Jip. He tries to breathe in, but can only taste corruption as the fragile weight of his organs fly apart from the outside in.

He tilts his head just a fraction (a miracle in itself, even as bone grinds against bone) his thoughts as heavy and sluggish as the wobbling movement atop his neck, dreamily aware that this was what he was waiting for, but now it is far too late. The Dreamer blinks against the fuzzy shriek of pain stretching from his midsection to base of his skull, dimly aware that he can hear Jeffery (tall, brazen, soft-spoken, fearless Jeff) scream in horror as the metallic nose of the trauckon that hit them wedges itself through the Jip into the Dreamers right side; sheering through the Jips own metallic overlay like it is so much silk.

He blinks again, feeling it all slide away like the warmth down his side, the blazing tickle on his insides - his bones nothing but jagged rocks beneath his skin as he tries to assure his Sensei, as he tries to help Him make sense of all this. He's been through it a thousand times, there are no suprises any more (not for the Dreamer) - but there is also no sense to be had from the whole event.

The deadly trauckons massive ignitor block (amazingly) sounds ten times louder than the crunching displacement of the smaller autons frame, impossibly bigger than the crumpling hiss of safe-glass and titan metals blasting apart upon impact. It still runs and growls and shrieks, the bigger autons frame hardly the worse for wear, even with all the damage it had wrought. This is important and yet it isn't, white noise filling the space in between his thoughts, cutting the electric press of pain and making it duller, even as he fights to hold on.

He tries to turn his head again, to tell Jeffery it is okay - that they'll get help, they'll get Jay; but of course, all of this is happening so fast, he feels the bones of his neck shatter apart before the words can find their way out. The comfort he wishes to voice is scattered carelessly under the sheeting slash of red-red-red and he realizes

again and again and again __

that he is dying, that he is, in fact, already dead.

His brain is just too stubborn to shut down.

He Sees it then (as his final Psychic Scream blasts through the roof of the destroyed Jip) that moment when Jeff knows, when he Sees what has been hidden from him - and in that second, his Teacher understands all. The last throb of humming sound-color-light from his Mentor's mind is all white-noise, wailing thumps and blackgreyblack _within that moment (that moment that defines his life for all these weeks) that this is all he can See. All he can see-hear-feel is Black - even against the warm pulses of red - and he knows he is shutting down. He is dying (dead), remnants of his soul fluttering against the crumpled confines of his flesh-made cage; but he is still aware enough to feel the squelching release of the trauckons grill from his ribcage and hip, hear it roar as it prepares to leave._

This is all he knows as he is flip-yanked away from the destruction, the last he Sees of the Dream as the void rushes in to pull him under and away is the glistening fist of impacted metal, the dusting of glass shards that glitter madly in the sun. He is granted one last horrifying glimpse of his Mentor staggering away from the wreckage, blood soaked clothes (none of it His, He is barely scratched) a blight of insanity against the morning press of daylight. The wail of sirens seep faintly into the Dreamer's fading perception as he stares at the smashed Jips lone occupant, the shimmering green of one unblinking eye pristine amongst all the redblackredred that surrounds it -

Then even that too, is gone in the grayish sweep of the Void.  


  


  
**~0~0~0~**   


  


It always takes a moment, coming awake from the Dreams. A moment to orient himself with the waking world, to breathe in the solid state of his own being and realise that he has truly come awake.

That he is actually alive.

It is always a reluctant pull-push (as strange as it sounds within his own mind), a hestitant tearing away from the Dream, as if it is the only solid thing he has to hold onto. That last hellish scene so stark, so _real_ \- he almost hesitates in taking the next breath, fearfully sure his ribs will shatter under the weight of the massive auton that was just lodged there mere seconds before.

It takes even longer this time.

Longer to draw in that next breath, longer to realise the sleepy, warm weight against his chest is not the trauckon, but Jared's hand settled just so over the frantic flutter of his heart.

As he always does, he thanks the gods that Jay is such a heavy sleeper, that he doesn't notice how Jensen holds back the scream that forms each time he awakens from the Dream (which is every night now - there is no rest for him, there is never rest). That he never feels the thunder of his heart, the sticky chill of fear-sweat that coats him practically head to foot every morning. Because if Jared knew, then he would want to help - and Jensen doesn't _want_ him to help.

Actually, that's the baldest of lies, right there.

He does want Jay to help, he wants to tell him so badly that he can feel the truth press behind just his teeth waiting to be spit out, waiting to tear Jared's universe apart. Which is why he stays silent.

The truth will melt away again (it always does). It will resettle behind his mind and spend the day being packed down until it periodically rises to choke him (again and again and again) at night, when he is defenseless and open. When he can no longer hide behind daylight, the warmth of his Tuner's laughter and Jeffery's solid presence.

Every day is a struggle, every day is a battle - but he has been winning so far and he will continue to win, until...until there is nothing left to win _for_. All so he won't hurt his little family, so he won't rob them of their peace, their safety in the sure knowledge that they will all be together for a long time to come. He would do anything, _anything_ to stop that from happening.

This freaky extension of his abilities is a curse (he is sure of it) with the power to damage and the willingness to destroy - but only if he lets it. So every day he battles, every day he closes off his mind to those around him, stills his tongue and keeps them safe. It is starting to wear them all down, leaving them all tired and snappish and tense, but the price is worth it.

His silence (in this case) is truly golden.

He breathes the idea through (as he does every morning), letting the knowledge that he will die (and soon) seep into his skin and make itself comfortable, make itself at home as it has done practically every morning for the last two months. It is easier to do this morning, easier to accept - and that gives Jensen a flicker of unease all on its own.

It means that It is closer than before, maybe tomorrow, maybe today - and while that makes him bitter and afraid, the foreknowledge leaves him feeling at peace. No one knows the time of their dying - it is unheard of, even amongst the most powerful of Readers. A Reader may know everything about the world around them, the past, the present, the future - they can even see their own past and patches of the future for themselves. There is only one mystery that is withheld from a Reader (and thereby, their Tuner's) mind - and that is the moment when they will cease to be. Even if another Reader close to them knows That Moment, it is hidden from view, kept invisible to even the most well-honed mind - and for quite a few good reasons.

It is accepted fact that you will never see your own death; it is an unwritten Law.

What he has witnessed for the past two months is impossible, unprecedented and it breaks all the natural laws of their world.

At first, he just shrugged it off as a fluke, burying it in the back of his head where no one could find it, even Jeff, who was the most powerful Reader he knew outside of anyone on the Council of Age.

But as a week dragged into two, then three, it dawned on him that it might not be a fluke after all. The feel, the smell of Sight was too strong to be ignored any longer. He had tentatively asked Jeff (after a solid month of torment) if his Mentor knew what lay ahead for him on the pretense of curiosity - and had gotten a blunt reply that no one knew what his future was, not even the revered Council.

It was odd, it was rare (for all paths were certain) but it was nothing to worry about. A young man with his ever growing abilities is bound to have gray areas along his destined road.

In so many ways, this made the knowledge that ate away at him only that much easier to hide, that much easier to smooth over and deny when the sun was up and life continued along its meandering path. It took some doing, some real fancy footwork (mentally) on his part and the stubborn will to keep his lip zipped, but he had managed so far.

Seemed he was only going to have to hold on for just a little longer.

He pulled his shields in tighter and wriggled out from under Jared's limp, slumbering frame, careful to not disturb him, as his Tuner was not known for being anything other than a bear when woken too early (which loosely translated to any time before ten a.m.). Seeing as how everything was still awash with the gray light of pre-dawn, Jensen felt safe assuming that this early was definitely too early and stumbled from the room in his pajama bottoms and tattered robe, making a beeline for the kitchen and the waiting coffeemaker.

He was usually the first one up and therefore getting coffee and breakfast started was generally left to him, as neither Jared or Jeff were particularly coherent or coordinated in the wee hours.

He rarely really minded. He used those few precious minutes before the coffee was brewed to sit and think, to 'get his house in order' as Jeffery like to call it and as much as he loved his family, he _needed_ that time for himself. He always did better during the day when he'd had a few moments to breath air that consisted of nothing but him and the quiet of the sleepy kitchen.

He was a loner by nature, preferring the silence and solitude to the hustle and run of people - but living with Jeff (and then eventually, Jared) had forced him out of his self-imposed shell. He didn't mind the constant noise and movement that they drew to them from the sheer living power of their personalities. He coped with it as best as he could and did his best to keep the flow of life from passing him by, but every now and again he wanted quiet and alone - and with early mornings like this, he could find it.

Though pre-dawn was stretching it a bit - it even for him.

He took his time getting the coffeemaker set up and going, spending the five minutes it took to brew watching his favorite squirrel couple quarrel in the backyard, their antics never ceasing to amuse him.

They were just about done with their domestic battle (he couldn't tell which one was the winner) the loser scolding the other from the ground when the coffee-machine gave off a soft buzz, indicating the hot brew was ready. He took his time with that though, his mind too tired and empty from two months of nightmares to even muster up something worthwhile to contemplate.

When the sun finally peeked its way through the stand of trees in the yard, he had already finished his first cup and was working on his second. The squirrel couple had given up their fight over ten minutes ago (taking their leave to separate trees, which amused him greatly) and nothing else had moved during that time, the stillness absolute and complete.

He thought about shaking loose his shields, giving them the flex and stretch they had practically been begging for during the last two months, his mind cramped and aching from the tight hold he had kept on them, even while he slept. But movement behind him and the brushing tap of greeting against those very same barriers halted him before he could even fully think about it. He hestiantly tapped back, withdrawing before Jeffery could soothe him back into the relaxed peace he had almost achieved just mere seconds before.

He poured his Teacher a cup of coffee, Jeffery's favorite mug in his hand, hot black brew half-filling it before the man had even stepped into the kitchen. He stepped away to dig eggs and bacon out of the fridge, keeping quiet as was custom while Jeffery woke up, thankful for the moment of respite it gave him before he was expected to be social.

He was mildly disgruntled that he wouldn't get that time to air out his own head and he was half-afraid of snapping at his Mentor if he tried to engage him in conversation, so he stilled his tongue, losing himself for the next few minutes in his morning routine.

"Good coffee, Jense," Jeffery rumbled five minutes later, the usual signal that all was right with his world and communication would be welcome from that point on. Jensen nodded his acknowledgement but kept silent while dragging a pan out from under the stove-catch and placing it carefully on the biggest burner.

He could feel Jeffery's eyes on him as he slapped bacon into the skillet, the muscles of his back tightening under the scrutiny, but he just pressed his lips more firmly together and concentrated on breakfast.

Anything more and he was liable to come apart.

Two months of constant strain and mornings that were getting earlier and earlier weren't doing him any good. If he was going to crack he preferred to do it in private, not under the caring and concerned eyes of his Teacher. He had worked too hard for too long to give in now and he was smart enough to realise that Jeff knew when to catch him when he was most vulnerable (and to ultimately use that to his advantage).

"Kind of early - even for you, Jensen." It was an invite and a warning all at once - Jeff wanted him to talk and he wasn't going to take kindly to any bullshit. "You sleeping okay?"

"Well enough," Jensen replied, mouth thin as he forced the lie between his teeth. "Was just time to be up."

"Bullshit." Was the simple retort. Jeffery sounded fully awake now and anything but amused, his deep voice rougher than Jensen was used to. "Don't lie to me, Jen. You do what you feel you've gotta do, but don't lie to me."

Jensen fell silent again, wrapping what was left of the raw bacon and putting it away, fetching out the milk and the whisk while he was at it, just keeping himself busy. It was an old trick and one that generally worked but it looked like he had gotten on Morgan's bad side early this morning - and dammit, he was too tired for this.

Jeffery let him work for a minute or two more, let him stew in the fact that he had already fucked up and it wasn't even 7 o'clock yet, giving him a moment to sort himself out before firing more questions at him that Jensen probably wouldn't be able to answer.

This rigamarole was becoming just as common lately as their other morning routines and Jensen was already sick of it, his mind too off-kilter to keep up with the jab and parry of Jeffery's side of the conversation. He could probably get away with a temper-fit and some measley excuse about not feeling well (both fitting and maybe expected) but that would only carry so far before the man would put his foot down and lean harder for answers.

Morgan wasn't known for his lack of patience - just the opposite in fact - but his tolerance for the run-around was nil and Jensen knew he had been skirting that fine line for quite a long time.

' _Just a little while longer, Ackles - just a little longer -_ '

"Have another nightmare?" Question couched in careful softness, meant to prod for response. He could feel a soothing pat against his shields and retreated from the mental touch, too afraid to answer back with even the slightest tap of his own.

His headache spiked in retaliation and he gritted his teeth against the sudden pain, wishing he could just go back to bed and curl up under the warm blankets while the world went away. He knew better than to try that though, as such reactions only brought the world in on you and with uncomfortable focus at that.

Biting back a sigh he tucked the mental wish away and flipped the bacon in the pan, snapping his fingers twice to turn down the burner's heat. He washed his hands and carefully, methodically dried them on a towel before snagging his coffee mug (lukewarm at best, but passable) and seating himself across from Jeffery in his usual customary spot.

This was what was expected of him - and as much as it made him feel like a chastised five year old, he had to sit down and face the music or he'd get a reaming that would wake the dead. Jared would be on his ass soon after and no matter his resolve, he was too tired to be able to fend the both of them off at once.

"Well?" Was the patient push. Jeffery's eyes were too dark and steady for this time of the morning, so Jensen figured the crackle of tension must have been felt across the house while he was sleeping.

He really was slipping.

"Yeah - yes, Jeff. I had a nightmare, it's not a big deal. I'll keep it down if I have another. Sorry if I woke you." Jensen replied woodenly, lips stiff, fingers shaking as he tried to blow it all off. He didn't dare look at Jeffery to gauge his reaction, but he relaxed when the other man's response was neutral, smooth.

"You didn't wake me, Jen. Just kind of worried - am I still allowed to be worried?"

Jensen shrugged, letting his fingers fiddle with the handle of his mug as he tried to come up with another topic - any topic other than himself - to distract Jeffery with, but he was drawing a blank.

He listened to the bacon sizzle in the pan and the single distant call of a mourning dove outside. Its cries filled him with an odd ache of loneliness before sudden movement from Jeffery startled him back to himself. He sat back instinctively, shields shored up hard against themselves, their nervous tremors translating into spastic shivers and jerks in his legs and fingers.

He rubbed his hands together as if he was cold and settled for looking anywhere but at Jeffery, who had gotten up to turn the bacon again in the pan. He realised he looked guilty about something but he couldn't seem to help himself, the need to escape was growing ever stronger as the silence between them drew on. He held himself still, waiting for the reassuring pat against his barriers that never came. Everything Jeffery was doing went against pattern and it was making him even more nervous.

"How many?"

The question startled Jensen, the tone and volume of his Mentor's voice so low he almost didn't catch it. Either way, he still didn't want to answer.

"How many what?" He deflected, flinching when Jeffery slapped the spatula back down on the countertop, spatters of grease fanning out

 _Like blood...it's like blood -_

in a graceless arc against the smooth surface, impatience and anger thick in the murmur of his thoughts.

"Don't be obtuse, Jensen. Answer the damned question!"

"Just a few," Jensen supplied hastily, hoping that Jeffery would buy that, hoping his Jeffery would let him slide. "Really, it's no big deal, Jeff -"

"That is the second time." Morgan rumbled, voice dangerous, back still carefully turned as if looking at Jensen would only serve to make him angrier.

"The second wh-" Jensen began, wary and a little frightened. Jeffery was unpredictable when he was angry and it happened so rarely he was thrown off balance by it each time.

"The second time you have lied to me this morning." Jeffery bit out, every word carefully and concisely laid out - almost like each one was a sentence of its own.

"I don't -" Jensen started to say and shrank back against his chair in startled fright as Jeffery suddenly appeared in front of him, his face a deceptive mask of calm, even as his eyes darkened.

"Don't finish that sentence. I won't tolerate a third lie, Jensen - if all you can do is lie to me, then just keep your mouth shut."

Jensen nodded in response, shuddering as Morgan brushed carefully against his shields, a soothing pattern of mental hums and bold snatches of color that washed over his barriers - not prying, just soothing, the tone of it regretful and sad. He pulled tighter into himself, too ashamed to accept the comforting touch even as he patted back, his own mental taps shaky and skittish along the open corridors of his Teacher's mind.

Jeffery sank down in a semi-crouch, one arm leaning against the table for balance, his dark eyes level with Jensen's, his features a picture of openness with just the slightest touch of sorrow. Jensen was suddenly hit with the memory of falling out of the tree-swing when he was small and Jeffery scooping him into those big arms, tucking him up safe and warm as he checked him for injuries, his big handsome face creased in seriousness as he swiftly looked him over and declared him okay.

Each mental tap at that time had the same soothing wave of _purplebluegreen_ interwoven with monotonous hums, designed to keep a small child docile and attentive. Jensen didn't think he was aware of it then and he was sure Jeffery wasn't aware he was doing it now.

What had kept him safe and made him feel loved when he was seven made him feel small and worthless now. He had lied to Jeffery not once, but twice. It didn't make a difference why - all that mattered was that he had lied and he was now less in Jeffery's eyes because of it.

No better than a seven year old boy who doesn't know any better and tries to climb the tire-swing only to fall when the branch breaks from his weight.

"Jensen..." His Teacher hesitated, eyes still heavy with understanding and that touch of sadness that wrenched Jensen's heart. He hated that he was responsible for that look, but there was no way to fix it without blowing his family apart. "Did I...did I do something wrong?"

"No!" Jensen blinked at him in shock, trying to figure out where Jeffery could have possibly gotten that idea. "No, Jeff - I just...why would you ask me that?"

Jeffery sighed and lumbered back to his feet, stretching a bit as he made his way to the stove, snapping his fingers to shut off the burner as he took the bacon from the pan. His movements were jerky and abrupt, as if he was angry or upset - and Jensen gave him a moment to compose himself, staying still and quiet in his chair.

"You don't..." Jeffery paused, chosing his words carefully, unaware that each one stung, his gentle handling only showing Jensen how far this had gotten out of his control. "You don't seem to _trust_ us anymore, Jen. Me and Jay, we just...are you unhappy? Did we do something wrong?"

"No," Jensen whispered, swallowing back the hurt of Jeffery's question. "No, Jeffery - I can't...I can't explain it right now, but -"

"Is it the nightmares?" Carefully, oh-so-carefully - like Jensen might snap at him if he stepped out of line; and dammit, he had done everything he could to not hurt his family. Seems he may have screwed that up, too.

"They're - they're no big deal, Jeff," he returned miserably, unable to look even at Jeffery's back in case he could read what had been hidden from him for so long. "The nightmares they're...they're just tiring. I've got it handled."

"Do you, Jensen?" His voice low, sounding just as exhausted as Jensen felt. "You've been acting skittish, withdrawn - even for you. Jared tells me you only allow him in so far before he hits a barrier. Your shields are so tight, your head must be killing you and - and you act like you're _afraid_ of us. If we did something out of line, if we didn't do something you needed us to do - _tell_ us, let us fix it."

"There's nothing for you to fix, Jeff." Jensen stated hastily, trying to sew the hole closed that he had made in his family's heart. "I'm sorry, I thought - I thought I was... I had no idea you guys felt like this. I'll - I'll do better, okay? I'm sorry - "

He blinked trying to swallow back the ache that had spread from his chest to lodge in his throat. He had created a rift in his family. While trying to protect them, to keep them safe - he had hurt them.

He wasn't sure how he was supposed to deal with that, how he was suppose to repair the damage. The time was almost up, he had mere days, if not hours before what he saw came to pass.

Not nearly enough time to make up for his recent behavior.

He forced himself to loosen his barriers (just a touch) and let his body follow, tentatively tapping at Jeffery's shields with a warm _orange-white_ thread, his own hum indicating apology and openness accepted with a soundless dry pat of answering yellow. He allowed Jeffery to pull him into a hug, returning it with an extra squeeze, half afraid he'd wind up clinging to him and not letting go.

He already missed them, he missed them and nothing had happened yet. He felt his love for them rise up, fierce and unshakeable in his heart and let it bleed beyond his shields, letting it mingle with the _orange-white_ hum, images of warmth/family/happiness following behind and with it. Jeffery smiled sadly in response, ruffling his hair like he was a child again, one arm still wrapped firmly around his shoulders as he soothed along his shields, trying to ease the ache in those tight barriers.

"Is there...is there something you need to tell me, Jen?" His voice was rough and open, eyes serious as he asked the question that Jensen had been dreading for two months.

If he was ever going to tell him, this was the Time. He recognised it, knew that today was _that_ day and he had to fight to squash the sudden black wave of fear that tagged on the heels of that knowledge. He had no idea how he managed it, how he kept himself calm as he replied, his lips frozen even as warm assurances slipped from between them.

"No, Sensei," and he felt Jeffery relax against him, even as an odd flicker rose in his eyes, blinked away within mere seconds. "Nothing but nightmares. But I'll let you know if I need you, okay?"

"Okay, Jensen." Jeffery untangled himself from the embrace, sadness still hiding in the corners of his smile, though he sounded more relaxed than he had a few minutes before. "You know I'll hold you to that."

Jensen nodded and swallowed the truth back down before it could leap out and undo him, another brush against his shields drawing him away from the table and back to the coffee-maker, Jared's cup poured before he was even out of bed.

Seemed everyone was up too early this morning. He'd better make this quick.

"Sensei - Jeff...can we - can we keep this between us? For now? I don't think Jay knows I'm sleeping so badly and I don't want -" Jensen rapped out, half scared that Jared was going to catch the conversation and start prying (as he was liable to do). Jensen was startled into abrupt silence by that odd light gleaming from Jeffery's eyes (just a flicker, then gone) but was hardly left to wonder at it when Morgan turned back to the bacon, patting the last of the grease from it with a paper cloth as he replied.

"I think he senses far more than you know, Little-Tall," the nickname rumble-smooth as if he hadn't stopped calling him that seven years before. "But I will respect your wishes. You do need to talk to him soon, though."

"Talk to who?" Jared asked, stumbling into the dimly lit kitchen, robe crooked and hair askew.

He blinked at them in sleepy curiosity, mouth curled at the corner in his ever ready-smile and Jensen felt that fierce rush of love sing along his nerves once more, filling his heart to bursting. _This_ was why he kept them in the dark and it was worth it, every last bit.

"The Council," Jeffery piped up, straining the grease from the pan into a waiting jar. "We have that appointment today, remember?"

"Oh," Jared replied glibly, accepting the coffee as it was pressed into his hands, sitting with a thump when Jensen dragged his chair around and nudged him into it.

"Damn, I had almost forgotten about that," Jensen sighed, half-relieved that he might not make it there if It Happened (and chastising himself for such flippancy in the face of something so serious).

It was hard enough keeping a tight lock on the Dreams around Jeffery and Jared - it would be damned near impossible if he was brought before the Agen. He shivered slightly but masked it by bustling to crack eggs into a bowl, adding a dash of milk before putting it back in the cold-locker, whisking the eggs and milk into a fine froth as he contemplated how to ask his next question.

He went with off-hand, just this side of mildly curious, sure that Jeffery was beyond alert enough to be monitoring his tone (if not every move he made). He had managed to evade his Mentor's questions and concerns for now, but if given half a chance, Jeffery would be peppering him with more later.

"Why are they calling this meeting, again?"

"I don't know, really," Jeffery mumbled, snagging his coffee with a disgruntled pout as Jensen pushed him away from the stove (a muttered 'Thank the gods' from Jared earning Jay a glare that could kill at ten paces), snapping his fingers to turn the burner for the pan back on, two taps against the counter adjusting the heat.

"You know how the Agen get," Jeffery replied, shrugging as he moved to take down plates and fetch the silverware. "They like to work the whole mysterious angle."

"Don't know why," Jared piped up, already looking more awake and ready to be a part of the conversation. "They're creepy enough as it is."

"Jared!" Jeffery barked, trying for frustrated but looking too amused to pull it off as Jensen barked a warm laugh from his area of the kitchen.

"You have to admit, Jeff, he has a point." Jensen grinned, giving the eggs a stir before adding pepper to them, the act of cooking so automatic he hardly paid any attention as they fluffed beneath the wooden spoon. "They really do rock the creepy-vibe."

"Don't encourage him," Morgan chided fondly, then turned his attention to Jared, setting his plate down in front of him with a thump. "As for you - that is half the reason you are staying home."

"Only half?" Jared asked with a cheeky grin, knowing Jeffery would indulge him and let it slide - his impertinence something Jensen could only dream about.

Jeffery sighed and shook his head, refusing to rise to the bait so early in the morning.

"I need you to double-check those figures I asked you about earlier in the week. That oughta give you something to do while Jensen and I get poked and prodded at. I also need to make sure we didn't miss rescheduling any appointments - we'll be gone most of the day and there is no need to cram work in on top of a Psych-Core review."

"No problem, I'll get it taken care of." Jared nodded, taking another sip of his coffee as Jensen started doling out eggs and bacon onto their plates.

They settled down to the business of breakfast. After Jeffery topped off everyone's coffee and the meal was a lighter affair than it had been for the last several weeks. Jensen was careful to relax his shields just enough to share surface thoughts/feelings/information (though no more than that) - and it seemed to mellow his companions enough to not pry any further than what he thought the weather would be like and various speculations on the Agen's impromptu meet and greet.

They didn't have another testing scheduled for well over seven months - but Psych-Core did as it wanted to do and there was no getting around it, much less understanding it. Jared washed up the dishes while Jensen made another pot of coffee and they all sat around comfortably and chatted, enjoying the rare day off, until there was less than two hours left on the clock before Jeffery and Jensen had to leave.

Jeffery begged off to get some paperwork done and Jensen reluctantly pulled away from his Tuner's presence to go take a quick shower. Jared was his real weak spot, in the end. Jeffery could pull and prod and get pissed at Jensen's silence until all the Veils became smoke, but it was Jared who could get to him.

He was vulnerable when it came to his Tuner and not just because he was his Tuner, his way of blocking, receiving and dampening the minds around him. It was because he was _Jared_ \- lover, brother, companion and best friend. Avoiding Jared was crucial, even if it broke his heart. He would love nothing more than to spend the rest of this day with him, snuggled close to his undeniable comfort and soaking in everything that made him Jared. But being near him, when his Dream was so close to making itself Reality -

It just wasn't a good idea. Fate was Fate - nothing could change that. Those who attempted to derail Fate met worse ends than the ones who were Destined. He would rather it be him and him alone, than Jared or Jeffery (or worse both of them) being swept along the Path he was set on. Keeping silent, keeping them safe was all he had to hold onto as the time ticked nearer - and if keeping them safe meant acting like it was any ordinary morning (Council meeting or no), then that was what he had to do.

Even so, he couldn't resist dropping a kiss at the corner of Jay's mouth, his eyes greedily taking in every detail of his beloved's face before having to retreat for that long over-due shower. The stink of fear still lingered on his skin and he needed it off of him before he could gather enough courage to climb into his Jip. But Jared, as always, had other ideas.

He snagged Jensen's arm, pulling him in for more than a quick peck, smacking his lips in satisfaction at the cool rush of light-color-hums against his mind, Jensen too startled to withdraw before he could think as Jared peeked up at his Reader through his lashes.

"You okay, Jenny?" He asked, cocky grin belying his serious tone. He tilted his head, those tawny eyes searching for Jensen's reaction even as he tapped his own faint burst of color-light against shields, pleased when there was no resistance.

"Why does everyone feel compelled to ask me that?" Jensen huffed, trying to lighten the question with a small smile that actually managed to reach his eyes. "I'm fine, Jay, why wouldn't I be?"

Jared pursed his lips, studying him intently for a moment before releasing his grip on Jensen's bicep, rippling his shoulders in a tight shrug.

"You've just been..." He paused, images of distress and alarm, colors of mood slapping together wildly before halting, the landscape of his mind smoothing out once more. "You had me and Jeff a little -"

" -off-kilter, I know, Jay. I'm sorry." Jensen offered another small smile, bending to brush chaste lips against Jared's cheek, fingers settling on the nape of Jared's neck, kneading in reassurance and apology. "I'll...I'll explain later, okay? I promise..."

"I'll hold you to that," Jared stated seriously, all humor momentarily absent from his warm gaze before playfulness swept back in, the flat of his palm swiping at Jensen's ass as his Reader straightened back up to move away. "Maybe a little later, while you explain -"

"Hey, hey," Jeffery barked from the other room, obviously getting all the images Jared was broadcasting at that exact moment. "I'm too young for that shit, guys!"

"Sorry!" Jared called out brazenly, not looking even one little bit sorry. Jensen could feel his face flame and wondered how on Gaia Jared managed to get stuck with a guy like him.

"Easy," Jared whispered, catching the tag end of that thought as it crossed in front of Jensen's shields. "I was a good boy and I asked the gods very kindly - and they delivered me to you. Just as I had hoped."

Jensen gave the back of his neck another fond squeeze and shake, then pried his fingers loose, wishing beyond anything that he had the power to derail Fate. Jared seemed to not notice his turmoil and made a shooing motion with one hand, the other picking up the morning news holo, already scanning the day's headlines.

"You'd probably better get that shower. If I had my way you'd never make it there and the Council would send the Core-Bots to question you. Bad things all around, Jenny." Jared laughed lightly, mind already turning towards world events, not seeing how his words had just frozen Jensen to the spot with total and absolute fear.

The Core-bots were nothing to joke about, they were every Reader's worst nightmare - though jibes and jokes about them were commonplace. They were rarely dispatched and when they were, it was considered a Big Event. They certainly weren't sent if you missed your impromptu appointment - that's what disapproving notes were invented for.

He could feel Jeffery's curious nudge against his shields and swallowed the fear back down as fast as it had risen, hoping neither of them had caught wind of it. It was irrational to worry about the Core-Bots, considering where he was headed today, but the lingering surety that the Agen would find out about his 'fluke' Dreaming still made his mouth dry and knees quake. His only comfort was the awful and twisted logic that in about an hour and a half's time, that would no longer make a difference.

"Yeah, better head that way," he supplied smoothly, amazed once more at his body's ability to relax, to act like nothing was wrong while his brain was freaking out inside his skull. He let his mouth take over, pulling his shields back in, just in case he was too close to broadcasting what was buried deep down behind his barriers. "Catch you guys in a few. Hey Jared, you want us to bring back lunch?"

"Yeah - or we can order in. What ever you and Jeff want." Jared replied dismissively, already lost in the morning news.

"Okay, we'll talk about it when I get out of the shower." Jensen murmured, relieved when Jared never looked up to watch his retreating back.

He took his time getting ready, his best suit laid out neatly across the freshly made bed (courtesy of Jared) while he took his shower, letting the hot water beat away at the tight muscles of his body, relaxing them slowly even as his headache clamored insistently inside his skull. He stayed in the shower until he threatened to prune up, dried off quickly before dressing, the chill of early morning still lingering enough to spur him into clothing that much faster.

He reflected briefly on the Dream, unable to remember what either he or Jeffery were wearing, the other details so overwhelming in their clarity. It wasn't really important, a silly detail for him to focus on and he guessed it really didn't matter in the end. Dwelling on the inevitable wasn't going to start it or stop it in any way; and he had done enough thinking on death this morning as it was. He ran a hasty comb through damp hair and hurried back down the stairs, intent on another cup of coffee before hitting the road, though he was amped enough as it was.

Turned out he wouldn't get that coffee after all, he had taken too long in the shower. Jeffery was already dressed and waiting by the door, impatience bleeding from his posture as he motioned Jensen to grab his coat, eyes on the hall time-monitor with every second that passed.

"Sorry, sorry," Jensen called breathlessly, shrugging into his coat as Jared ambled around the corner, his coffee cup clenched in one huge paw.

"I'll meet you by the Jip," his Mentor huffed, not really as mad as he seemed to be. "Don't be much longer - oh! And lock up. My wristor is still being repaired."

Jeffery waved at the bracelet embedded in his arm, the hardwired face of the wristor communications array dark against the paleness of his skin.

"Dunno if Convo is ever gonna get the damned thing fixed -"

"They will, Jeff," Jared soothed, putting down his coffee to straighten the lapels on Jensen's coat, slapping at his Reader's hands as Jensen attempted to derail his fussing. "I got it, Jenny - they waved and said they'd have it to you tonight. They apologise for the delay."

"Whatever," Morgan groused, mouth curled in a distinct lack of humor at the situation. "They've had it for over 24 hours - you'd think they'd be more efficient. But I'm not gonna get into that now - see you outside, Little-Tall."

Jared looked startled at the use of Jensen's nickname from when they were small, disquiet flickering briefly in his eyes as he straightened Jensen's sleeves, gaze meeting his Reader's briefly before stepping back to admire his handiwork.

"Been a long time since I've heard that one," he murmured, shaking his head as if to rid himself of a bothersome pest. "Wonder if he's okay."

"Second time I've heard it this morning," Jensen replied drily, buttoning his coat with quick, deft movements.

' _Soon to be a third time_ ,' a little voice supplied quietly.

"I'm sure he's fine - you know how much he hates being cut off. He's a bear without his freedom and routine. Not having his wristor has probably got him flummoxed, you know how he gets."

"Yeah, it must be," Jared answered quietly. He leaned in for a kiss, pecking Jensen softly on the cheek before waving him off, final inspection complete. He caught Jensen's eye before stepping away, though, gaze just as serious and disturbed as it had been at Jeffery's use of Jensen's childhood handle, voice low when he spoke.

"Tonight - you and I have to talk. I mean it, Jensen - you've been freaking me out lately and I've been as patient as I -"

"Tonight, Jared, I promise," Jensen cut in, voice all honey and light. He gave Jared a soothing mental tap and checked the time-monitor, pausing long enough to return Jared's kiss with a soft touch of lips to his Tuner's cheek in response. He wanted to give more (oh-so-much more) but he had neither the time or reserves of will to do so without spilling his guts.

"I'm gonna be late - and I have to ride for the next half hour with Jeff in my Jip. She may be big on the inside but when he's riled, I'll wish I had more room!" He said the last with a laugh, squeezing one of Jared's hands as he turned to the door, pausing long enough to ask what Jared wanted for lunch.

"Ahh, just any old thing. Wave me when you're done and I'll see if we can get something delivered if you guys are too wiped to pick anything up. We'll figure it out. Just be safe, okay? You know how much I hate you guys hurrying in that cranky machine of yours."

"You worry too much, Jay," Jensen said lightly, feeling woozy at the idea of getting into his well loved machine. "We'll be careful - see you in a few hours."

"See you," Jared echoed, his face a study in seriousness and that quiet that Jensen so hated etched in the smooth lines of his face. Jensen felt the urge to be gone come over him swiftly, fear that maybe Jared had seen or felt something he shouldn't have overwhelming him for a few tense seconds as he swung open the old-fashioned oak door.

"Love you, Jay," he half-whispered, closing the door on that statement before it could leap out and make Jared freak out any further.

A couple of deep breaths later he hit the flagstone path of the front walk, the coat pressing resistance against his arm as he raised his wristor to his lips, giving the command for the front door to lock. The communications module beeped its compliance and he blinked dazedly at the sudden burst of sunlight in his vision as the clouds cleared overhead, shaking his head as the pain in his shields spiked in protest. He forced himself to jog down the walkway, fear settling heavy and cold in his gut as Jeffery motioned impatiently in his direction.

"You don't need me to let you in, Jeff - you know that." He heard himself say calmly. Everything inside him was screaming in panic, knowing the words Jeffery spoke next by heart, a burst of dark humor almost making him mouth the words along with him, like an actor reciting lines.

"Yeah, I know - I just hate being in this damned deathtrap without your reassuring presence." Morgan's tone was as dry as the desert, the snarky reply reflexive it seemed, even if they did take his Jip more than Jeffery's more reliable, sleeker auton. Those dark eyes, just as serious and infathomable (if not more so) as they were in his Dream drew him close, Jeffery's hands folded just so across the Jip's lovingly waxed roof.

"Are you...are you sure there isn't something you need to tell me, Little-Tall?"

Morgan's voice is as soothing and low, though more _there_ , as it is in the Dream and Jensen can almost feel the deep calm wrap around him in response. There is no turning back - the board is in play and it is out of his hands. It is almost reassuring, this Knowing and he could feel his body relax into that knowledge, all fight and fear draining away, leaving nothing but a soft, hazy serenity in its place.

Jeffery's mental brushes are that calm _purplecreampurple_ , just as he knew they would be. He drew them in close (oh-so-briefly), reflecting with a wistful melancholy that he would only get so many more of those before his time was up, best to enjoy them while he could. He let Jeff hum along his barriers, sending out a cool flood of _blueblueblue_ in reponse.

He could feel the urge to talk, to tell all rise behind his teeth, Jeffery's calming pats and gentle hums making him want to curl into his big, warm arms and have him fix it like he could when he was small. Only Jeffery could ease the pain of this, make it all better a small part of him declared. Jeffery could do _anything_ \- he was the greatest Teacher, the greatest _Dad_ in the world and if anyone could make this better, he could.

But he kept himself still, kept himself silent - allowing himself only to stick to the lines as they had been created for him. He was compelled to speak them, to respond as the Dream had seen fit and he was more than happy to let that part take over, to wrest control away from him.

"No, Sensei - should there be?"

"No," Morgan's voice was thoughtful, his eyes clear and deep - the emotion unreadable as he opened the passenger door, his mouth curled in the same melancholy that chilled and ate at Jensen's heart. He drummed on the roof -

 _rat-a-tat-_ thump

\- of the Jip with one restless hand, eyes drawing inward as he put one foot inside the auton's interior.

"No, I guess not. We'll be late - it's time to go."

He felt his head nod (like a marionettan-man on a string) with that odd mix of disappointment and relief -

 _that he knew he'd feel_

\- washing over him as he opened his own door, settling himself into the operator's seat with practiced ease. He was amazed his heart was beating so smooth and calm, that it hadn't attempted pounded out of of his chest yet; a sleepy serenity easing around all the dark places in his mind, soothing them silent. Jeffery had already attached his seat-harness, silent and waiting as Jensen did the same before sliding the ignition chips from his wristor, popping the catch closed with a muted click.

He inserted the ignitor chips into the guiding console, toggling the starter and shifting the auton into drive, all the while moving as if he was in a dream (or in the Dream). This was the section that was lost to him, the portion that he didn't know the script for - and that made him more nervous than the upcoming crash. He knew what to expect there, he knew what was coming -

 _just ten minutes or less away_

\- but anything could happen before that time, anything at all.

Jeffery stayed silent for a minute or two, letting him concentrate on driving. Even his Mentor's mind was quiet, his own shields high and while not as tight as Jensen's own, they were smooth and seamless, no hint of light or color bleeding through their walls. So when Jeff did speak, it almost startled Jensen enough to stall the Jip, the serene lull of his own mind keeping him distracted and complacent as he waited for the Sign.

"You know, Little Tall, that you can tell me anything - right?" Jeffery sounded almost mournful, voice low, head tilted to look at the scenery as it flashed past the passenger glass. Jensen dared to sneak a glance at him, before looking back to the guidance console, weaving to avoid a pothole to the side of the road.

"Yes, Sensei - Jeff, I know."

"Then why did you lie to me this morning?" He could feel Jeffery's eyes on him, the brush of his mind against his shields. He radiated disapproval and mild disappointment, his brushes more gray than white against Jensen's barriers. Jensen didn't even have the heart to brush back, his heart doing slow nervous taps against his ribcage, wishing his Teacher trusted him more.

' _I'm doing what is best - I wish I could tell you that, I wish I could make you understand._ '

Jensen took a moment to answer, licking his lips as he tried to come up with an honest answer that wouldn't tip his hand. He finally sighed and gave a half-hearted shrug, wishing they were discussing anything other than what had happened this morning, anything other than thoughts that led to his countdown and how little time he had left.

 _Six minutes and counting -_

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to lie to you - I just...it's hard to explain and I wish I could make you understand, but I can't. Not right now, anyway." He licked his lips again and tapped tentatively against his Teacher's, his Father's shields and sent out a soothing wash of _green-blue-green_ , voice more open than his mind could be. "I want to talk to you, I want to tell you - you know I have never knowingly lied, Jeff. I wouldn't start now, you know that. It's just -"

"Complicated." Jeffery finished, humor bleeding back into his voice, his mind opening to accept the peaceful apology Jensen was transmitting, the force of his mental wave a little strong without Jared there to adjust it. "Okay, Jen, I get it. I'll leave you alone about it for now. But tonight, you and I are gonna talk."

"Aww, dammit," Jensen mock-whined, turning off of the main streets to take the quieter backroads. "First I get the fun of being raked over by the Agen of Psych-Core, then Jared wants to grill me and now you? Man...this is gonna be one of those days."

"And think of it!" Jeffery boomed with a small smile in his voice. "Tomorrow you get to go back to work!"

"Fun," Jensen cracked, fighting and losing against a smile of his own. "Well, all I know is, if you wanna interrogate me, you're gonna hafta get in line - seems I have a full day ahead of me."

Jeff pretended to wave an imaginary ticket in the air, voice serious though his eyes glittered with wry amusement.

"Got my number right here Little Tall - looks like I'm third in that line."

Jensen grinned at the lame joke, his insides relaxing even as the time drew nearer. The serene calmness receded just enough to let the warmth of Jeffery's fondness soak through and he unconsciously tapped his happiness against his Mentor's mind, spine relaxing into the Jip's seat.

"Just wish I was working today. Impromptu Agen meetings make me nauseaous - really wish I knew what this was about." He murmured it half to himself, curious in spite of the knowledge that he would never see that meeting. It was rare for the Agen to call you before your appointed time with them - it was only done in cases of emergency and for the life of him Jensen couldn't think what about himself, Jared or Jeffery would be considered an urgent matter. The very fact that Jared was allowed to stay home only made things that much odder.

"As do I," Jeffery answered darkly. Something in his tone caused Jensen to glance at him, just for a moment - and the odd look that creased Morgan's face -

 _like the one from that morning_

\- did nothing to ease the nervous flutter in his chest.

"Jeff?"

"Jensen, I want you to listen to me and I want you to not ask questions until I'm done, okay? I'm hoping you trust me, I'm hoping you love me enough to hear what I have to say and take it no further than us - at least for now."

"Sensei?" He wanted to pull over right there, he wanted to look his Mentor full in the face and make it all okay, Jeffery's tone and urgent prodding frightening him, even as Fate loomed overhead. Something told him that whatever Jeffery had to say, it was important even as time trickled away from them.

" _Little-Tall_. Do you -"

"Yes, yes Jeff - you're scaring me over here." Jensen replied breathlessly, letting his shields loose enough to send scattered waves of love and trust to his Mentor. "Just tell me -"

"No need to be scared, Jensen. Just - just let me get this out." Jeffery said quickly, voice filled with gratitude as he returned the mental caress with a few soothing taps of his own.

"Okay, okay I can do that," Jensen replied, willing his heart to slow and reluctantly pulling his shields back in, tightening them almost reflexively.

"The Agen...as you know they are the most powerful portion of our government. They dictate our world and how it runs, with no questions from the ones they govern; no thought given to the lives they ultimately control. It's not a bad system, it's not a bad way and there are mistakes, even from people as powerful as they are. It happens, they are human just like the rest of us." Jeffery paused, gathering his thoughts and Jensen glanced at him from the corner of his eye, the skin across the back of his hand tight from where the morning sun beat down through the auton's glass, warm and steady.

 _Too soon, too close -_

"But that may really be the problem. For all that we place against ourselves and our very human ways, the machines that make our lives easier, the constant awareness of mistakes and failures as we try to overcome them - there are those who use the goodness of others, use these blockades against our lesser natures to perpetuate their own. They hide behind the goodness of others, behind lies and excuses to work evil, to bring about the world as we know it to their ultimate vision. A colder world, a crueler world - where they would be hailed as the Gods themselves. The Agen, the Core holds alot of power, Little Tall - but sometimes...sometimes just power isn't enough." Jeffery hesitated, his eyes boring through him as Jensen tried to ride out the prickling sensations that were running along his skin; his body now fully aware of what was coming and trying to prepare, to curl away from it. His mind was trying to fight on two fronts; the Event that was drawing closer and the sheer horror of what Morgan had just implied.

It was startling to hear these things from Jeffery, who was a champion of the Agen; a man destined to hold one of the highest seats within their Council. The whole conversation felt surreal, leaving Ackles awash in confusion and fear, the mere implications that Jeffery was laying out at his feet enough to give any Reader, any Tuner pause. No one questioned Psych-Core, no one ever _thought_ to question them. The fact that Jeffery was calling that into doubt was unsettling enough - but for him to come so close to accusing the Council of Age of misdeeds was almost worse. Their whole world was so delicately strung together, everything finely tuned to keep them all functioning, to keep the world itself turning as it should - the Agen was the centerpiece, the maintainer of that very balance.

Now Jeffery was hinting that the centerpiece was more of a spiderweb than a pillar - and Jensen was left unsure of how to handle that. Now that the floodgates to questions were opened (were allowed) his mind was over-run with them, doubts creeping in the rest darkly at the corners of his thoughts.

"Jeff, what are you -" He started to ask, but was slapped into silence by the sign that they were now passing, each letter memorised as if they were tattooed into his brain -

 **Kane's Muszik Showcasun! ( _All Acts Unique and Pleasing to the Ears_!)**

"I don't know what this meeting was for, Little-Tall, but the possibilities scare me." Jeffery said suddenly, his voice low with regret and something deeper that Jensen couldn't pinpoint. "Watch out for Psych-Core and look after our Jay. I love you both so - I'm sorry."

' _Sorry for what?_ ' Jensen wanted to ask, even as he blinked once, twice and breathed out, tensing as -

Morgan grabbed the guiding wheel, eyes serious and endlessly deep while he wrenched it towards him, the burn of the ancient leather against Jensen's palms causing him to let go, even as the Jip spun in a rickety one eighty. Jensen tried to shout out, brain stuttering as the Dream blew apart around him, Jeffery's actions confusing him for a mere moment before his brain caught onto what was happening, horror seeping in to fill the gaps as -

The massive trauckon rammed into the passenger side of the Jip, the roaring growl of the bigger auton's ignitor filling the small space as it decimated the back half of the Jip's frame, crushing Jeffery into the ancient dash. Jensen screamed in agony, even as his own chest remained uncrushed, the phantom echo of it passing him by as though it never was.

Jensen was thrown into the door of the driver's side, harness catching him before he went too far, the straps cutting into his shoulders and neck. He lunged forward against the restraints and clutched at Morgan's sagging body, horrified when Jeffery turned his head -

 _slowly, so_ slowly

\- to smile blood and assurance at him, mouth moving as though to speak, even as thick maroon buried the shape of his words.

"Jeff! _Jeff_ , no!! _Nonono_ -" He wept, anger and sorrow wiping away everything else as he tried to get a grip on his Mentor's body, knowing it was coming back. It was going to come back and finish the job it started and it wasn't suppose to be _Jeff_ , it was suppose to be _him_ and _why the **fuck** did Jeff **do** this_?!

The trauckon roared again and Jensen braced himself, fingers hooking into Jeff's shoulder, clawing at him in an attempt to yank him away as the nose of the bigger auton shattered through the Jip's side. Glass sprayed in all directions as the smaller auton's metal frame screamed in metallic protest, lighter weight buckling under the insistent push of the trauckon, the subtle, barely-there snapping of bone accompanying the whining scream of the massive auton as it sliced through the Jip and into Jeffery -

 _like the Jip was made of silk_

\- flares of pain racing through Jensen's side and hip, though not all of it was phantom; Jeffery was losing control of his Shields. He was losing control of his barriers as glass and metal whipped past Jensen, as the Jip folded under the brutal assault of the monster trauckon; Jensen was hit with a flood of _image/sound/color/light_. Jeffery's dying Scream tore through his own shields to embed themselves into his mind, the physical event of now growing hazy for a split second as he absorbed the impact of knowledge, his shields curling around it in a reflexive grab even as he longed to shy away from it. His Sight was ripped wide open, the edges of his perception bleeding and raw as he Saw everything Morgan had kept close, hidden behind the barriers of his own mind.

Irony lay thick across the back of his tongue, the taste reminiscent of blood; the thoughts and screams of Jeffery's mind mingling with Now, the scent of copper and iron overwhelming, his clothes drenched in gore. Jeffery's sightless eyes look beyond him, seeing what Jensen never would as he rattled out his last breath, the whine of the trauckon's ignitor fading as it pulled away from the destruction. The bigger auton growled twice more before tearing away in a shriek of overtaxed tires, the sudden silence left behind deafening, pressing against Jensen's ears with the weight of a thousand lies. Occasional pops of metal and hisses from the Jip's broken ignitor killed the illusion of time standing still, Jensen's breathing strained and hoarse as he tried to make sense out of what had just happened, his throat raw from screaming.

"Jeff?" He whimpered, knowing already that it was too late, but unable to help himself. His hands were still wrapped in the soft cloth of Jeffery's overcoat, almost unrecognisable as hands beneath the stain of his Mentor's blood. " _Jeffery_?"

Jensen shook Morgan's shoulder, sickened by the wet lurch of Jeffery's body against his harness, one clear brown eye staring forever into the blue sky above. He got a blur that could only be described as double vision, one green eye merging over the brown leaving him breathless and confused. He felt blood seeping down the side of his face, lips stinging as he tasted more blood there - almost relieved that it was his own and not Jeffery's. The harness he was wrapped in holding him fast to his seat, checking the urge to crawl into his Teacher's lap, hoping in some odd distant way that it would wake him up; that Jeffery would wrap those strong arms around him and tell him it was going to be okay.

That it was all a mistake - he could fix it, he could take it back.

He was still screaming for Jeffery to wake up -

 _My Gods, Jeff - Sensei_ please _!! It's not suppose to be this way, why did you do this?! What am I going to do now?!_ Jeff _!!_

\- when the policia and ambulators arrived, their sirens overlaying his cries until the sweeping red-blue-white of their lights, the nonsense drone of their calm questions and orders followed him into a suffocatingly sedated sleep with the press of a hypo.

  


  
**~0~0~0~**   


  


It was a cold, blustery day when they buried Jeffery - the only real Father and Teacher than Jensen had ever known. His 'family' had come to the ceremony and followed them to the graveyard to watch as Jeffery Dean Morgan was intered, the condolences of his birth parents (a lovely lady named Donna and a serious, but equally sweet man named Alan) washing over him like so much static noise. His focus was on Jared and only Jared, his Tuner's grief flowing unchecked from his heart in waves of purple-black pain, his face gaunt with lack of food and sleep.

Jared never looked so beautiful, his inner light so fragile and Jensen had never felt so sick or hollow. He kept Jared close, allowing the younger man to lean on him, cry against him, use him as an anchor, though he felt like a fraud; he had allowed Jeffery to take his place, allowed Jeffery to let his own Fate fall on the man's head. He was right next door to a murderer and he yet, here he was - trying to give false comfort to his best friend and lover, like it was the most natural thing in the world to do.

He was a blight on the face of the world and his Mentor had laid down his life for him.

He'd be sick if there was anything in his stomach to purge. He'd cry if he had any tears left to cry with. All he had was Jared and he knew that soon, this wouldn't be enough for either of them.

He clung to his Tuner selfishly, fear and pain the fabric that held them together, even as that same fear and pain held them apart. He lived in terror of the day Jay would find out, the day when Psych-Core would come for him - his cowardice gluing his mouth shut even as he trudged through the last week with his head down, Jared's tears washing him clean in and out. His Tuner clung back as if he would disappear, as if he would vanish if Jared let go. What Jay didn't know, what Jensen hoped he would never guess, was that he was already gone, sure as if his Dream had come true and wiped him off of the face of the planet.

He just didn't have the good sense to lay down yet.

It took him a moment to realise that he and Jared were alone. All the mourners had retreated, heading back to their autons and their lives, Jeffery's death one more in a long line of deaths that had all lead up to this. All those deaths had led them to Now and this pain that would never go away, that would never leave it easier to breathe around. Each inhale was tinged with the taste of blood, each exhale wedged the rock in his chest ever deeper, crushing all the color out of his soul.

Beside him Jared wept silent tears, his eyes glassy with exhaustion, his tall, proud body slumped low with sorrow and defeat. Jensen tried to hold him close, only to be shrugged off, his heart squeezing tiredly as he looked at what Jared had been reduced to -

 _I did that to him - look what I did..._

\- how wrung out and hollow he appeared. He stared at his hands as if the held they answers he needed before letting them drop to his sides, his arms heavy and useless without Jared's weight to give them purpose. He was drifting in the sea of uncertainty, his path now twice as open and terrifying as before, though the road looked dark from where he was standing.

He let his gaze shift upwards, the serene blue, blue, blue of the vast sky above only broken by the occasional white gauze of clouds, their bodies heavy and close with latent moisture, ready to shed their own tears on this endless day of exhausted pain. His attention was caught by the wintery arms of a willoaken tree, its trunk bent in a gross parody of sadness, its arms reaching to catch the low lying clouds that drifted just above its branches.

For a moment he was startled into the Dream, a bone-deep horror freezing him in place as the simple tree became The Tree in his minds eye; Its trunk bloated with all the evil this world and many others could contain, bark seeping that disgusting black ooze, soaking into the thirsty, innocent ground beneath them as it breathed Its vile taint into the surrounding atmosphere. A feeling of vague deja vu swept over him and he tightened his shields in unconscious protest, noting in a dim, sleepy way the patches of sparse ground beneath his and Jared's feet, puddles from a recent rain mirroring the sky above with a cool indifference to the boots that marred its surface - a dream with a Dream.

He reluctant looked upwards again, drawing his battered hoodie closer around his chest as an icy wind cut through the graveyard, the chills from within clashing against the chills from without, leaving him shivering and defenseless against both. He tucked his hands into the hoodie pockets in a futile effort to warm them, alarms bells clanging in his head as elements of the Dream and the horror of Now collided, making him long for Jeffery all the more.

He needed Jeffery's strength, he needed his fearlessness and surety more than ever before. The keen loss of his Teacher cut deeper than it had since his death, the pain of it slicing through the sleepy haze he had wrapped himself in, exposing the raw truth that lay underneath. He was now truly and utterly adrift with nothing and no one to guide him, his Tuner just as lost as he was.

He could hear Jared's worried voice to his left, but couldn't answer as the ravens he had somehow (deliberately?) missed a few minutes before wheeled and dipped effortlessly in his vision, silent as the grave they stood in front of. Two, six, nine of them drifted in a slow circle above their heads as sleet began to patter from the sky, the very Heavens mourning their loss with icy tears that tasted as bitter as the ache Jeffery had left behind.

He found himself searching for Jeffery's visage in the sky above, waiting patiently for it to appear as it _always_ did. He would wait until those same skies fell if he had to, he needed to See him once more, he needed to explain, to ask forgiveness. Maybe he could be absolved of his treachery, of his continued existence where Jeffery no longer was. Maybe he could see his Fate written in the clouds as it had been for two months before Morgan had wrenched that Fate away with two hands -

 _And he didn't stop him_

allowing the Hammer of the Gods to fall upon his own head. He knew he'd have to pay penance for that - he'd _beg_ to be allowed to pay that penance if that was what it took.

He searched and searched for a few breathless minutes, eyes tight with those tears he would never allow to fall again (never for himself) breath clogging his lungs as the skies stayed that serene blueblueblue, the absence of his Mentor's face, his kind eyes like a hole in the world that could never be filled. He felt the tug of Jared's hand on his arm before he truly registered his voice, lost in his dream within a Dream unfulfilled, heart breaking as minutes passed with no hope of Jeffery's forgiveness for all his failings.

"Jen?" Jared's voice was small, timid - the very antithesis of the man that stood next to him and Jensen found his hatred for himself was truly boundless indeed. "Jen-"

"Yes, Jay - I'm here," he replied, his own voice as dry and empty as his heart felt.

"Did he..." Jared stuttered to a stop, voice wrung out and exhausted with his grief, his silent plea forcing Jensen's attention away from the sky and back where it belonged, where it always belonged.

He took in Jared's gray face, those eyes shimmering pools of wrecked hazel, deep lines of melancholy etched harshly across a face that had only previously known humor and warmth. His heart squeezed again and he wrapped a hand over Jared's, trying to offer love and support even as the ground of their future shook beneath their feet.

"Jared?" Jensen spoke softly, prompting but not rushing him. Each inflection carefully picked so he wouldn't spook him, make Jared close up tight against him; then he'd truly be alone, truly be lost - and as wrong as it was, he couldn't face that.

"Did Jeffery...did he say anything? I mean, did he say anything at all to you before...before he died?"

Jensen wrenched his eyes away from Jared's open, pleading face, mouth curled against the words that begged to be said, too sure he would crack under the weight of that trusting gaze. Jeffery had said a lot of things -

 _never questioned..._

only human...

take care of Jay...

\- but nothing that would give Jared what he needed. Nothing that would bring him comfort against a world that suddenly had no certainty within it. All he had were doubts, horror and secrets - and he couldn't bear to spill that on Jared's shoulders, not when his very existence had destroyed their little family of three.

 _Fate is Fate._

So he gritted his teeth against the terrible things that he could have said, all the things he could have shared and damn Jeffery's promise. He steeled himself against the nervous flutters of sorrow that washed against his shields, Jared unconsciously searching for comfort from a place Jensen could no longer let him reach. He allowed himself to tap back faintly, heart breaking anew when Jared's mind practically burrowed into his, reaching, reaching, reaching for warmth and solace from the one person he had always been able to find it in, even as each shove showed how very cut off he was from that one person.

"Jensen?" So small and lost, his Jay. He wrapped his arms around him, hugging him close in a ferocious embrace, the instinct to protect his Tuner (his lover, his best friend, his brother) as deep and ingrained as it had always been. He held on tight, arms aching from cold and weariness, a new determination springing to life in his heart, growing from a place that belonged solely to Jared - the same place that selfishly clung to the love that Jared had for him, using it to draw strength when he was left with none. He bit back everything that could be said, everything that longed to be said and weighted his heart down with another lie, even as it was born with the honest intent to keep Jared safe.

"Nothing...he said-he said nothing." Jensen whispered, swallowing back bile as Jared broke down again in his arms, leaning into Jensen until they both collapsed to the cold ground, Jeffery's grave a fresh turn of plowed soil beside them.

Jeffery's resting place glared blackly at him, a heavy reminder of those twenty-three years of happiness that now lay six feet beneath, never to be regained; the pitter-patter of sleet from the weeping sky now a downpour of ice and rain. He nodded his consent to the silent accusation and held Jared tighter, rocking him and murmuring soothing nonsense that he didn't feel as Jared shook with cold and the force of his grief.

It hit him then, the idea that they were truly alone in the world.

There was no more Jeffery to shield them, no more Psych-Core to be that unreachable pillar of virtue - all they had was each other, all that they could depend on was sprawled here on the icy ground at the metaphorical feet of their dead Teacher. He didn't know how long that would be, how long they had until Psych-Core and the Council caught up with him, but he would take it, even if it was mere months.

And when that time came, when the Core-Bots came to their door to erase him from being -

 _living on borrowed time_

\- he would fight to protect Jared then, too. He had one job now - he had only the one Job. Maybe this time he wouldn't screw it up. Maybe he could make Jeffery's sacrifice count for something after all. He prayed to the gods he was no longer sure he believed in to help him see the two of them through the hell that was bound to follow, his mind ever aware that the Dream -

 _nine ravens circling silent_

Tree reaching greedily to the weeping sky

\- was not yet over. Fate would surely come for him, as Fate always did (you could never escape what was Destined) but in the meantime, he was sure there would be work to do; Jared his only constant at his side. Whatever lay ahead, whatever there was in store he would be sure to be ready, he would be sure to protect, to save what little he had left.

He wasn't going to fail his little family again.  


  
**  
~Finis~   
**   


**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Written for [](http://community.livejournal.com/spn_reversebang/profile)[**spn_reversebang**](http://community.livejournal.com/spn_reversebang/) and beta'd by awesome and kickass [](http://twirlycurls.livejournal.com/profile)[**twirlycurls**](http://twirlycurls.livejournal.com/). Any screw-ups you see are mine and mine alone. This is dedicated to my long-suffering hubby, my dearest [](http://justmmy.livejournal.com/profile)[**justmmy**](http://justmmy.livejournal.com/) (thanks for helping me through, lovie!)all my sweet f-listies that have been waiting for fic and the ever lovely [](http://apieceofcake.livejournal.com/profile)[**apieceofcake**](http://apieceofcake.livejournal.com/) (who created a beautiful picture that may have spawned a Universe) and who was ever so patient and kind while waiting for me to get my ass in gear. That said, I hope you very much enjoy!!  
>  **Disclaimer: Not mine, nope! All the wishing and pleading with the PTB have not changed this. These guys belong to themselves and all this herein is just sheer fantasy and fun - no harm meant! So please no sue - just having playing around here!**
> 
>   
>  For the gorgeous Artworks that inspired this fiction, please be sure to check out my [Main Post for **Fate is Fate**](http://a-phoenixdragon.livejournal.com/469173.html) at Livejournal for all links! And thank you for reading!


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